Day 3: Örnsköldsvik

Day 2 (6.6.16): Heiligenhafen – Puttgarden – Rodby – Vadstena

After a small breakfast, we get back on the highway, a short distance to Puttgarden ferry port, passing by the Baltic Sea idyll and wind farms. We reach the ferry port 45 minutes before departure. The harbor master books us on the earlier ferry and after 5 minutes of chatting with a friendly Austrian who tells us about his Defender adventures, we board the ferry.

After a short coffee and chat with a couple from Bern, we are already back on the highway towards Copenhagen and from there to the Swedish border. We are observed unusually closely there. The border officer, a thin little grump, checks exactly how many people could fit under the luggage. When he spots the pneumatic pistol, he smiles, shakes his head, and returns our IDs with a wave. We drive on.

On the way, Andrea books a sleeping place on an endlessly large campsite where we can stock up on groceries and check our organization for the first time. A lot is searched for, mostly found and repacked. Andrea is tough on that.

When it is still not really dark at midnight, we hide in the tent in unusual brightness.

I wake up, it's bright as day, the birds are chirping beautifully. It feels like 6 o'clock. I look at the clock: it's 2. Suddenly, the birds annoy me. Their chirping gets worse and worse. I come up with dozens of ways to silence the birds, all of which end in bloodshed. The silence of the birds. That makes me so tired that I fall asleep again. Until Andrea can't sleep anymore and gets up at 3 o'clock. She makes herself comfortable outside on the chair, using every available blanket. At 3:20 am, I can no longer sleep and make coffee. It is bitterly cold, there is a chilly wind. Camping is shit. The worst part is taking into account the neighbors. Right now, I would like to set something on fire.